Tales of the Forgotten Victors
by aurora borealis1
Summary: A series of 100-word and 150-word stories (do not trust the word-counter!) with no special relation to each other, except that they all take place after Voldemort's defeat. Please read and review.
1. Rest

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**Rest **

It was a place of healing, recharging and reflection. The cottage stood in a forest clearing, and was bathed in sunlight most of the day.

Water came from a spring running out into a small lake a few yards away. The air was always full of the sound of birds and running water.

"Rest," she told him. "Heal. Read something if you want to."

And because it was so tempting, and it was she who told him to, and his skin really _had_ turned very sallow, he did as she suggested.

Besides, there was nothing else there to do.


	2. Goodbye, Burrow

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**Goodbye, Burrow**

He was going to miss the house. The foundation had been built by his great-great-great-great-grandfather, and for each generation Weasley, a new room had been added. It came in handy as the family got bigger.

Yes, he'd really miss it. The spells that had kept it together were taken away and it started to crumble. Arthur sighed. Nothing would be the same again.

"Don't be so sad, dear," Molly said. "The Minister's house can look like whatever we want." She turned, whispered in his ear. "We can call it The Burrow Jr."

Arthur smiled. There was always that.


	3. Night Patrol

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**Night Patrol**

Dark, deserted corridors. Nothing to see, nothing to hear. No, wait.

Turning towards a corridor with only unused classrooms. Did he really- Yes.

Giggles.

Striding purposefully, silently, towards the old Charms classroom. More giggles. Leaning into the door, trying to listen.

"No! Really?" An excited male voice. "You know a way I could make it bigger?"

"Well, it has worked on all my other little darlings…" Female this time. Giggles again. "I don't see why we can't try."

Filch opened the door with a bang. Sprout and Flitwick stared at him over a petunia. He shut the door.


	4. The Diary

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**The diary**

"I think it's time," he said, looking at her seriously.

"Time for what?" she asked nervously. He reached into his satchel and pulled up a book. He gave it to her. "What is it?" she whispered.

"I think you know that." He handed her a quill.

She opened it hesitantly. It was blank.

"Try it," Harry said.

Nervously, she sat down by the table and wrote:

_"My name is Ginny Weasley."_

Nothing happened. No one answered. Looking up at Harry, she smiled, knowing that no one could hurt her anymore. That Tom was dead.

She burst into tears.


	5. The doomed

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**The doomed**

The prisoner looked up as his cell opened. "Draco."

"Father."

They looked at each other, two versions of the same picture.

"How is your mother taking it?"

"Not well." He paused. "She's staying with Grandmother at the moment."

"Oh." They stared at each other. "How are you, then?"

"I'm okay. Guess I picked the right side."

A wry smile. "I guess so."

Draco stood up. "I have to go."

A slight hesitation. "Draco?" Draco turned around, looked at his father.

"Yes?"

"I'm proud of you."

"…Thank you. Goodbye, father." He walked away.

A knife glinted on the floor.


	6. School Reunion

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**School Reunion**

The laughter pulled him out to the Quidditch pitch, which was covered in a thick blanket of snow. People in old House skarves, red, blue, yellow, even some green, were running around like small children.

A snowball fight.

He hesitated, then squared his shoulders and walked purposefully over to the middle of the fray, where he cleared his throat.

Everybody stopped. A man with green eyes turned around to look at him, studied him, measured him.

"Malfoy."

"Potter." A pause where everyone held their breath. "May I join you?"

A wide grin spread across Potter's face. "Of course."


	7. Under the stars

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money off of this.

Thanks goes to Waterfall for beta-reading.

**Under the stars**

The sky was full of stars as she walked out the tower door, taking a deep breath of the cold night air.

"Couldn't sleep?" a voice like velvet and steel asked out of the darkness.

She turned around. "No. You neither?"

A soft, ironic laugh. "When could I ever sleep? I don't deserve that luxury."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "The war is over. You've proven your loyalty to us."

Again that mocking laugh. "Still the little know-it-all. Don't you see? People never forget others' wrongdoings. They never forgive."

"That's because you won't forgive yourself," she countered sharply. "If you would only do that, you'd see that people care for you."

"And you? Do you care for me?"

"You know I do."

"But not the way that matters." Bitter.

"…No." Sorrowful.

"Then what's the use?"

"I don't know," she whispered. But the only listeners were the stars.


End file.
